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“What?” I asked.
“I can barely see you. It’s like you’ve been buried alive in this coat.”
I cracked a smile because seeing Luke soaked to the bone, a grin on his lips and his hair falling over, reminded me of when we were friends. A long time ago. His bulging biceps and chest muscles proved that a lot of time had passed since I was friends with the skinny boy who liked to play baseball.
He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. Buttons clinked on the floor, but I couldn’t move my eyes away from his bare chest. The shirt had hidden the six ridges of his abdomen and a large tattoo across his upper shoulder. Luke had a tattoo. I squinted to see better, but when he pulled down his zipper, I spun around. “What are you doing?”
“Taking off my wet clothes.”
“Well, what are you going to put on?”
“Nothing. But I’ll go grab some dry clothes from upstairs. I’m sure Colton has some extra. I’ll see if I can find something for you, too”
“Okay, hurry.”
He chuckled as he walked away. “This is not funny, Crawford.”
“You should see yourself from my angle. It’s freaking hilarious. What are you so afraid of, Sweeney? That you might jump me if you saw me with my pants off?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I waved a hand behind me as I kept my back turned. “Just go.”
When his footsteps reached the second floor, I turned around. I didn’t want to see Luke Crawford naked. I didn’t want to think of him as anything other than that selfish, spoiled little boy I remembered. Until now, he’d done nothing to disabuse me of my recollection, so I didn’t need a hot body to change that. God, who knew I was so desperate for sex? I had one serious boyfriend after college, a few bad dates in the last couple of years, and that was it. It was quite an embarrassing dry spell. No wonder Luke’s fitness-magazine-cover chest made my stomach drop.
“Found something,” he called from upstairs.
“Thank god,” I mumbled.
Luke jogged down the steps wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt. I groaned internally. Why did this somehow look hotter?
He held out a bundle of clothes. “Here. These are for you.”
I grabbed the small heap. “Thanks. I’ll go change upstairs.”
When I reached the bathroom on the second level, I locked the door and examined the pieces in my hands. A pair of gray sweat socks and shorts fell to the floor as I sized up the pale blue dress shirt. I tilted my head. The shirt could work. I slipped it on and buttoned it to the top. Picking up the socks one at a time, I put those on, too. However, upon closer inspection, I noticed the shorts were actually boxers.
Oh, no! No freaking way I’m wearing Colton’s underwear.
I stuck my head out of the bathroom. “Hey, Crawford. You made a mistake. You gave me Colton’s boxers.”
“Not a mistake,” he shouted from downstairs.
“There’s no way I’m wearing your brother’s underwear.”
“They’re clean. I checked.”
“Ugh, gross. Still not happening.”
“Suit yourself!”
My panties weren’t wet from the rain so I could still wear those, but it would be awfully breezy walking around with just the shirt on. I looked down at the shorts and shuddered. Nope, still not wearing Colton’s boxers. I picked them up and placed them on the large white counter.
Walking down the steps, I heard the crackle before I felt the heat from the fire. Luke had started one while I was upstairs. He had also placed a towel next to the fireplace and laid our wet clothes on top.
“Thank you,” I said, walking to the living room to stand behind him. He turned and whatever he was going to say died on his lips because he choked. His mouth opened and his eyes widened. It was a bit funny to see him that way. Of course, he’d never seen me in anything like this. It felt good knowing I had that brief effect on him. He recovered quickly and cleared his throat.
“The shirt fits nicely. I mean, it looks good on you. I don’t mean—”
I fought back a smile. “I know what you mean, Crawford.”
